A Place at the Table
by DeniseV
Summary: Ezra and Vin head out of town, leaving behind their friends and their questions. Fortunately for them, a surprise awaits.


"Where ya headin'?"

"Ah will explain everything upon mah return, Mistah Dunne."

"Mrs. Potter said that you bought that big, fancy knife she just got in the store."

"Mah visitations at the mercantile are no secret."

"Come on Ezra, give us a hint," Buck Wilmington begged playfully.

"And why do ya need a pack mule?" J.D. added.

The ladies man and his best friend J.D. Dunne had been watching as the gambler Ezra Standish loaded his supplies onto the saddle and the back of his trusted steed, Chaucer. What was atypical was the extra supply of items that he'd positioned on the pack mule named Gladys. Ezra had never made a journey out of Four Corners with a pack animal in tow, and the knife was the most curious part of this unusual picture. Buck made mention of Ezra's purchase to his old friend and the leader of the group of lawmen now famous as The Magnificent Seven, expressing his worry about what a man like Ezra needed with a knife like that. Chris Larabee had dismissed Buck's concerns, saying that he doubted that just because they hadn't seen the refined southern gentleman handle a knife, did not mean he didn't know how.

"Have you nevah heard that variety is the spice of life?" the gambler asked as he checked all of the cinches once more. He winced slightly, something that both of his friends, knowing how much Ezra hated to have any weakness commented on, chose to quite obviously ignore … at least verbally. Buck frowned and J.D. shook his head. They would both have helped Ezra get everything ready, though they knew the man well enough to know that he would never ask for the assistance.

"Well yeah, I have heard that, Hoss, but I thought that was meant for those special moments with a woman, that ultimate … " Ezra quickly moved from Gladys over to J.D., placing his hands to either side of the young man's head.

"Mistah Wilmington, there are delicate ears about."

J.D. shrugged Ezra's hands away, careful not to hurt the con man further. "Very funny," he said, a reluctant smile spreading across his face. Ezra and Buck joined him.

"Good point," Buck said as he reached over and slapped J.D.'s silly hat from his head. It landed at Galdys' back right foot; the mule seemed bothered by the touch, lifted her hoof and then kicked back, sending the bowler hat flying into the air amid a cloud of dust. The hat smashed into the barn wall with a thud, and then fell into a pile of dung-filled straw.

"Buck!" the easterner complained as he went to fetch the head _'protection'_, though more than one of his friends had questioned the efficacy of this particular head covering in protecting anyone's face from the harsh sun of the high desert. Well, maybe young Billy Travis would find some protection, but he'd have a helluva time seeing where he was going with the hat resting halfway down his little face. "Look at it!" he cried. "Ew, yuck … smell it," he insisted, shoving it into the town Lothario's face.

Buck leaned away from the stinky bowler. "Hell, kid, it don't look no different," he replied.

"One cannot say the same now for its … aroma," Ezra laughed.

"Thanks, Ezra," J.D. said sarcastically. "This is your fault," he accused.

"Moi?" the con man asked, feigned innocence abounding as his brilliant green eyes shown with amusement.

"Yeah. You got 'im all riled up when you started talkin' about spice and … whatever."

"Good lord! Ah hope not. Ah would not have thought that _Ah_ could do _that_ to Buck Wilmington." Buck snickered at the suggestive reply.

"I don't know, Ez. You ain't my type, but if you were a woman … oh, that's right. You been a woman. You looked right pretty in that dr … "

"Cease! Buck. Ah thought we discussed nevah bringin' that up again."

Vin Tanner stepped into the open door of the livery, the reins of his horse draped over his left shoulder, Peso standing obediently behind him. Buck and J.D. shared a dumbfounded look, and completely forgot about their simmering hat argument or what Ezra looked like all dolled up.

"You're not holding onto Peso?" J.D. asked. He vividly remembered more than one time in the past few years when the stubborn horse had just taken off, despite his owner calling for him to return. After the second time they didn't find him, with 'The Mule', as both Vin and Chris had taken to calling the animal, returning on his own hours later, they just stopped chasing after him, knowing that the horse knew, like the seven men, just where home was.

"Nope," the tracker said as he looked to Ezra. Vin winked at his friend, and the gamester returned a playful smile.

"You trained him?" Buck asked. Ezra shrugged, as though what he had done wasn't just short of the miracle that it was.

"You coulda trained Milagro," J.D. said with a note of disappointment.

"Mistah Dunne, your fine Milagro, as well as Mistah Wilmington's sweet Clyde, did not require such training." Buck smiled with pride and affection as he looked across the livery to his big gray. "Peso, on the other hand? Ah feared that if something was not done post haste to resolve the equine's … behavioral concerns, that Mistah Larabee would indeed follow through with removing him to a glue factory."

Buck nodded knowingly as J.D. said, "He's threatened an awful lot to do that."

"Never happen," Vin said as he chewed on the end of a piece of clean straw.

"Hell, not now, Vin," Buck said. "Look at you, Peso," he added with wonder at the well-behaved animal, and with admiration for the skill it took for Ezra to accomplish what he had. Buck smiled widely; the man truly had a soft spot for horses. Peso leaned over Vin's shoulder, attempting to grab the piece of straw from his man's mouth.

Vin ignored Buck and shrugged his horse's heavy, bobbing head from his shoulder.

"Look's like he could use a little more work," Buck observed.

Vin ignored the jibe and addressed Ezra. "You ready to go?"

"Chaucer, Gladys and Ah are ready for our adventure, Mistah Tanner," the gambler said. He finished tying the rope from Chaucer to Gladys, took his horse's reins and began to walk out the wide barn door.

"Adventure?" J.D. asked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Buck queried with a frown and a look of disappointment that he wouldn't be joining his friends on this _adventure_.

"Gentlemen? Two things. One, we shall return no later than tomorrow afternoon. Two, do not forget: curiosity killed the cat," Ezra advised with a grin, remaining closed-lipped on his plans, which, as Buck and J.D. likely noted as they looked from Ezra to Vin, and then back to Ezra … was usually Vin's job.

"Don't know how much of an adventure it can be if yer gonna be gone for less than thirty-six hours." J.D. turned to look at his friend, his face full of disbelief at what had just come from Buck's mouth. He punched the ladies man, hard, on his upper arm. "Ow, kid!" he yelped.

"Ya just jinxed 'em, Buck!"

"The hell I did! I was just sayin' … "

"How long ya figger they'll stand there arguin'?" Vin asked as they mounted their horses and rode side-by-side away from the livery.

Ezra snorted a laugh. "Oh, that conversation is likely to last until at least supper."

"You sher you don't mind me comin' along?"

"Vin, it is always mah pleasure to share your company." They took their horses down the main road at a slow walk as Ezra continued. "For this trip, Ah will also have the pleasure to learn from your experience, your knowledge of the area and the bounty with which Ah hope to return. Ah will need to 'pick your brain', as it were, in order to gather what Ah seek."

"Happy to help," the former bounty hunter said as they took the remainder of their ride out of Four Corners in companionable silence.

Vin Tanner's presence on this adventure was no coincidence; he did not just happen upon this opportunity to get out of town during this surprising and unexpected stretch of beautiful mid-spring weather. Chris readily noticed how antsy the tracker had been lately. Vin was well overdue for one of his sojourns away from town. Whether he kept to himself somewhere … anywhere away from all this civilization, or spent time with one of the tribes, it was time away that the Texan needed in order to keep his head clear. It was the only way he could continue doing the kind of work that they did. But this particular trip would do double duty, as Chris had asked Vin to tell the gambler that he would be joining him.

Ezra, too, needed time away. It seemed that for going on most of the last year, Ezra had been dealing with serious injury or sickness; like clockwork, he'd been sick or injured every other month. No sooner had he recuperated from one thing, he seemed to be knocked out by something else. And this was all while doing his damnedest to pull his usual weight as a peacekeeper. On top of all of this was the Ezra-Inez saga, a sad story that, thankfully, had resolved itself to the pleasure of the entire town. Ezra refused to allow what had been happening to him to keep him from his other important duties, like spending time with the children, giving a little dog some attention … and a new home, or training a pain in the ass horse. Everyone could tell how much Ezra had become part of the fabric of the town when of all of the things he dropped when he found himself short on time, it was spending time at the poker table. Not that he ever worried about lack of funds anymore; he had done well enough over the course of these last years, saving his well-earned gambling winnings for something … someday … . His zest for poker had not dwindled any, but his zest for living just made him more aware of the important things in life.

So when Ezra went to Chris and requested a couple of days away – and trusted the former gunslinger with the reason for the request – the tall blond was more than happy to approve. The only stipulation was that Ezra make sure that their healer Nathan Jackson had approved the activity. Though the con man had been out from under the compassionate man's direct care for well over a week, he was only just recently cleared for light duty. Since Chris hadn't heard back from Nathan, he figured that the southerner had received the go-ahead. Even after three years, Chris still was tempted to go to Nathan himself, but he knew he had to work on trusting the gambler, just as much as the gambler needed to believe he held the trust of his compatriots. Plus, Chris knew of the bonus for them all at the end of this excursion.

As both Vin and Ezra touched their hats in cordial greeting, Chris called out, "Watch your backs," and then kept his eyes on them until both men were out of sight.

* * *

"So he didn't tell you where he was going?" Mary Travis asked.

"No."

"That seems a little odd, doesn't it?"

"Odd? I … I don't know," Inez Recillos responded, somewhat alarmed by the question. She went on. "Ezra did not tell me everywhere he was going … before," she said as she transferred the remains of a near-to-the-bottom bottle of whiskey, topping off another with its remnants.

"Yes, but your relationship is different now, isn't it?" the newspaperwoman queried.

"In some ways, yes," the pretty Mexican answered as she continued to combine the partial whiskey containers.

Mary was starting to feel uncomfortable just standing there watching her friend work while she peppered her with questions. "Here, let me help," she said as she grabbed two bottles.

"That is not necessary."

"I'm happy to help," she said as she began the same task as the barkeep. She looked up, once she started the transfer, and asked, "Chris approved this trip quickly. Is Ezra on an assignment with Vin?"

"Well, it is not … what is the word … sanctioned? Ezra insisted that it was just a short 'adventure'."

"Oh."

"Oh?" Inez questioned.

"I just wonder why he would choose to leave town now. He is, after all, just recovered from serious injury. And … " Mary paused momentarily, not quite sure how to phrase the next part, not sure that it was even her place to pursue it. But Inez was her friend, as was Ezra. It was her right as their friend to do what she could to make sure things continued on the right path.

"And?" Inez asked casually. She didn't want to show her worry … but she was a little worried.

"Inez, your relationship is quite new. Why would he want to leave right now?"

"He will be back within two days," the bar manager answered shortly.

"Inez, I'm just concerned. Is anything wrong?"

"Thank you for your concern, but nothing is wrong," the pretty Mexican said as she finished the one task and concentrated on starting another as she turned to the kitchen.

"Inez," Mary said, grasping her friend's hand to stop her from leaving. Her eyes caught those of the woman she'd grown so fond of over the years. Mary pressed on. "Something is wrong," she said, not a question.

Inez sighed, squeezed Mary's hand and then walked to a table, her skirt swaying with the purposeful movement, and sat down. Mary joined her, taking the chair next to her and then watched as the upset woman gazed out the batwing doors.

"What is it?" Mary asked.

"We have not … " Inez began, lowering her eyes to look at her hands in her lap. She picked at a fingernail, and then picked at another. Mary reached over to stop her, taking both hands into her own.

"Just say it."

The worried Mexican raised her eyes to her friend and said, "We have not … been to bed."

Mary frowned slightly, and tried very hard not to smile. If that was what was worrying Inez, then Mary knew that there was no real problem.

"The last time, before Ezra's amnesia, you and he …"

"Yes," Inez replied. "Just once."

Mary smiled. "Inez, how long has Ezra been out of the clinic?

"A week, or so."

"And how long has he … remembered about your relationship?"

"Not quite two weeks."

"Do you think maybe he just does not think enough time has passed in your relationship? He is nothing if not a gentleman," she reminded with a sly smile.

"Oh."

"And though yours was not in any way a typical period of courtship, you have to admit that the two of you took your time getting together, that first time."

Inez's eyes grew wide, and she blushed slightly. "That is true," she said with a shy smile. "And he really is a sweet, gentle man."

"I know. And he's still taking Nathan's tea," Mary said. She knew this through talks with Chris, a man that she had grown to love and who had somehow come to love her. Ezra was still not healed, which could be one reason he hadn't taken their relationship to the next level. And he was not the type of man, like Buck, who would bed a woman at the drop of a hat. No, he was definitely not Buck Wilmington.

Inez thought about what Mary just said. She uttered a more knowing 'Oh' than the one previous. And then her brilliant smile shown for the first time that day. But she quickly frowned and said, "He is still taking that awful tea."

Mary nodded. "I'm sure he is probably still in pain a lot of the time."

Inez let out an unladylike snort. "Soy muy loco."

"No you aren't." Mary had become familiar enough with Spanish to understand what Inez had called herself. "You're just in love. When we're in love, we can do crazy things, think crazy thoughts."

"I guess that is true." The smile shown bright once more when Inez added, "Somos mujeres muy afortunadas."

Mary joined her friend with a big smile of her own. "Yes we are, but our men are pretty lucky, too."

* * *

"That's a right nice knife ya got there, Ezra. Chris told me you bought it." Vin handed the new purchase back to its owner.

"And?"

"Think it'd slice through just 'bout anything on the first go-round."

"That is not what Ah meant." Vin smiled mischievously. "Of course you know that."

"Yeah."

"So?" The two men had kept to a leisurely pace. It was early afternoon, the sun bright, with a pleasant feel in the air that the season had definitely changed. The skies were clear and brilliant blue, making for a beautiful day in the high desert.

Vin cocked his head and replied, "Both Buck and J.D. come to ask me why I thought you might need a piece like that."

Ezra looked at his friend, nodded and shook his head. "Ah don't suppose it crossed their minds that by purchasing this knife Ah now become the last of our group to carry one." Or at least one of significance.

"Nope. Don't think they were thinkin' that."

Ezra scowled. "Aah, so they believe Ah would not possess the requisite knowledge to use such a fine instrument?"

"More 'n likely."

"Won't it come, then, as a surprise to our compatriots when they find out that Ah procured it with the specific intent to kill?"

Vin raised his eyebrows. "Cactus. Cactus, Ezra. You plan to gather cactus with that knife."

"Indeed."

"That ain't killin'," Vin explained.

"Ah beg to differ. Once Ah cut the cactus, thus begins its long, slow march to being dead."

"Reckon you could look at it that way." Vin peered to his friend as they continued on their journey. Ezra was smiling. "What's funny?"

"Oh, the irony of our fellows questioning this purchase. Ah believe Ah have shown enough expertise in various weaponry over the years. Ah am not sure why they would think Ah do not know mah way with such an implement." Ezra turned to Vin. "What do Josiah and Chris think?"

"Don't rightly know what 'siah knows. Chris weren't bothered 'bout it." Ezra nodded, pleased with their leader's reaction. "Nathan know?" The gambler shrugged, and then offered the faintest wince; his shoulder was still sore from their not especially distant encounter with Clayton Hopewell. Vin didn't care too much for this reaction. "Nate knows you're doin' this, don't he?" Ezra tilted his head to look at the lean outdoorsman.

"Ah had intended … "

"Aw, hell. Ya didn't clear this with Nathan, Ezra?" Vin asked. "Damn it, ya had a bad hit to the head, and then yer shoulder. Chris told ya ta make sure Nate was all right with ya bein' in the saddle."

"Ah have been allowed back to light … "

"Nate never lets us back on patrol when we're on _'light'_ duty," placing the emphasis appropriately.

"Ah would not worry. Ah am certain our fine healer will have me back on rotation soon enough."

"It ain't Nate I'm worried about. Chris finds out, you won't likely be back on patrol anytime soon. He's apt to shoot ya."

"'_Apt'_, eh?"

"Shut up." Vin gave Ezra a sidelong glance. "Hold on," he said, grabbing Ezra's arm and forcing a halt to their forward movement. "What did ya mean 'bout Nate puttin' ya back at work _'soon enough'_?" Ezra wondered whether the comment would get by the normally highly observant tracker. The gambler shook his head and then rubbed his forehead. This conversation was not the fun and relaxing time he had planned, and he could thank himself for speaking out of turn.

Damn.

"Ah meant nothing by it. Ah … misspoke." He started Chaucer forward, Gladys following behind.

Vin stared as the con man moved ahead. He forced Peso to pick up the pace and was soon even with Ezra once more. "No ya didn't. That ain't somethin' that you do. Now what did you mean?"

"Ah am well enough to go back on patrol."

"Ezra," Vin growled.

The southerner pulled on the reins, stopping Chaucer, and then turned to the Texan. "Think about this before you answer." Vin nodded that he would. Ezra turned to look out into the desert. It surprised him every time, both how beautiful such a dry and oft times desolate place could be, as well as how much he'd grown to love being here. The minor slights that he still occasionally suffered seemed a small price to pay for the wealth of good that he had gained since joining with these men to protect their dusty 'home' town some three years before. "Have you noticed that Mistah Jackson tends to hold all of you in his care longer for your injuries than he does mahself?"

"No he don't."

Ezra smiled, and then nodded his head. "Ahh. Mah mistake." He kicked Chaucer a little harder than he should have to get them moving. The gambler leaned over toward his horse's ear, patting him affectionately as he said softly, "Mah apologies, mah fine friend."

"Aw, hell, Ezra. Don't … " he called as he urged Peso to catch up.

"No, no. Ah have clearly been mistaken in mah interpretation of these events. You are the most observant person Ah have ever met. Ah was wrong. We will not speak of it again. Now," he added as he looked to the sky and then took a peek at his watch, "we must make up some ground if we wish to arrive at Harrison Fork before dusk. We must be a bed early for our morning scouting at dawn tomorrow."

"Ezra, look … "

"Mistah Tanner, Ah b'lieve Ah feel a headache comin' on. As Mistah Jackson so often says, Ah should exhibit restraint in talking when the headaches come upon me, that not hearin' mah own voice … that the quiet might well, as they say, 'nip it in the bud'." And with that, their ride continued in silence, and as far from companionable as it could be.

* * *

"He didn't come see me," Nathan said as he went through his supplies, noting on a piece of paper those things he would need to replenish.

"So you didn't tell him he was all right to ride out?" Chris asked. The former slave could tell that the former gunslinger was on the verge of exploding. Nathan couldn't blame him. As their healer, he worked hard to get all of his fellow lawmen to understand the risks to their health when they tried to partake in activities too soon after an injury. Nathan shook his head. 'Partake in activities'. That was a phrase right out of the gambler's mouth. He had been ready to release Ezra to full duty, until he found out in a roundabout way about the lingering headaches.

"I was about to yesterday … " he started.

"Yesterday? Hell, Nate, he ain't ready."

"I know. I caught him in the middle of a bad headache yesterday … well, Mrs. Potter came to me and said Ez was lookin' a little sick. Thought that was over. He still needs a few days."

"I didn't know about the headaches, but his shoulder ain't near healed enough anyway. Why do you do that?"

The black man continued to check his inventory when he asked, "Do what?"

"Make him get back to work before he's ready."

Nathan turned around, his entire bearing angry, offended by the accusation. "I don't."

"You do."

Nathan stood, his size intimidating … to anyone other than Chris Larabee, as he loomed over the seated man. "Chris, I am tellin' you I don't, and I am … it makes me sick to know you think I do."

"Sit down." Chris stared into the healer's eyes, the steely glare that had made wise men turn and run; it was the not so wise ones who ended up with a bullet to the heart. "Sit." Nathan sat back down. "You do. You don't see what you're doing, but it is what you do. I know you don't mean to be doin' it, that's not like you."

"I don't treat Ezra any different than anyone else who needs my help."

"You're wrong … "

"I ain't," Nathan demanded to be heard. Or maybe if he spoke first he wouldn't have to hear what couldn't possibly be true. He stood and paced to the other side of the small clinic room.

"You're wrong, and I'm gonna explain what I mean," Chris insisted.

"Please do. I'd like to hear this," Nathan said, calm, clear and completely confident that he had done no wrong. He couldn't have.

"Sit." Nathan walked back and reluctantly took his seat.

"Have you seen that Ezra's been wearing that sling?"

"He's supposed to. I don't tell him to wear it for _my_ health," Nathan replied, immediately argumentative. Chris ignored the attitude and went with what, specifically, the healer had just said.

"Yeah, but you know, when Ezra is ready, when he's not feeling the pain anymore, even if it's before you tell him he can, he always takes that damned thing off."

"I know. He's a pain in my backside about it."

"He's _still_ wearing it, Nate." Nathan stared and did not answer. Chris sighed and continued. "He won't put it on unless he's got all those clothes on."

"At least he does that part right," Nathan muttered.

"God damn it! Listen to what I'm sayin', Nathan. He's coming down to the saloon with that sling in his hand and his jacket draped over his injured side, his hand resting between the buttons of his fancy vest. He's doin' that because just getting ready hurts. He can't get his jacket on by himself, he needs help. Vin and I have both helped him, so has Inez. If he needs help putting on a damned jacket, don't you think maybe he might have trouble doing other things, like tightening the cinch on his saddle, or getting up and down from his horse when he's on patrol checking on folks living on the outskirts, or helping to carry buckets of water for Mrs. Lansing from her well to her kitchen? You know that if he's back on duty, he will feel obligated to do that. And to help old man Thornton with his chickens, or give little Evelyn Pinkham a riding lesson?" The little girl was hampered by a mild form of paralysis on her right side, but she seemed to thrive in the presence of her horse … and her southern helper. "It goes on and on. Now think about the last time Buck was hurt. Or Vin. You remember sending them out, knowing they'd be hurtin' bad by the end of the day?" Chris knew that Nathan saw what he'd been doing, now that it'd been laid before him. The black man shook his head in silent answer. "I didn't think so."

The healer placed his elbows on his thighs and rested his head in his hands. He raised his head, his expression full of guilt and sorrow.

"I didn't realize … "

Chris reached his hand to his friend's shoulder. "I know."

"How long … I mean … I don't do that every time with Ezra, do I?"

Chris didn't want to lie just to make Nathan feel better. "That time he was hurt and sick at Christmas? I think he had plenty of time … "

"You're saying that all year, this year, I've been doin' this?"

"Afraid so."

Nathan jumped out of his seat and slammed his right fist into the palm of his left hand. "Why didn't someone say anything?"

"Not everyone's noticed. I think only Ezra and I have. I mentioned it to Vin, but he says I'm wrong, that you would never be like that. Ezra said the same thing, until I noticed. He asked me to leave it be."

"I thought I wasn't like that."

"Look, you aren't like that. There was obviously something about Ezra … "

"But there ain't," Nathan explained, his eyes so full of disappointment in what he'd done. "I care about him. We ain't the same together like we were when we first met. I ain't the same."

"Neither is he."

"Yeah, well, that just makes what I've been doing even worse; he doesn't deserve to be treated like that."

"No he doesn't. And now that you know, we don't have to worry about it any longer."

"Yeah," Nathan said, "except he probably shouldn't be out riding yet."

"Maybe not, but Vin's with him and he knows that Ezra's still healing. He'll watch out for him."

* * *

Vin watched, studiously, as Ezra set up camp. Under the guise of taking care of the horses – and Gladys – the tracker was able to see what he'd failed to notice during the day: the gambler was hurting. And it was now, only now, with the clarity he'd failed to possess when Ezra had mentioned what Nathan was doing, and that he didn't have back when Chris had brought up the same topic, Vin now understood how wrong he had been. As though that wasn't bad enough, Vin had to go and compound that physical pain by telling the man that what he thought was way off base. Watching him move, Vin knew Ezra should not have made this trip, no matter how much he wanted, even needed to. The con man was favoring his healing shoulder so much that he seemed to be walking with a limp. And the eyes, usually so bright and full of life, were mere slits, the pinched look enhanced by the pale appearance he always got when suffering from a bad headache.

"Shit," Vin said as he finished with Peso, Chaucer and Gladys. He walked over to the southerner. As Vin neared, Ezra turned to head away from the camp. "Ezra!" Vin called. The gambler stopped, lowered his head to the ground, and then slowly turned to the former bounty hunter.

"Yes, Mistah Tanner?"

"I'll go gather the wood."

"No. We agreed that you would take care of our horses and Gladys while Ah set up camp."

"Changed my mind."

"Ah have not."

"Ezra, you're hurtin'. Ya look like that Hunchback of Noder Dame you read to me about."

Ezra snorted derisively. "That would indeed be bad for me, but Ah can do mah share … "

Vin stepped up to his friend. "Ez," he began, his blue eyes sad and full of regret, "you gonna let me apologize? You were right, 'bout Nate. 'Course, could be Nathan got tired of ya not listenin' to 'im." Ezra looked back at Vin balefully. Vin put his hands up in surrender. "I ain't sayin' what he's doin' is right. And I ain't sayin' I haven't ignored his advice a time 'r two." Ezra sighed tiredly. "Look," Vin added as he stepped to the side, opening up a sightline for the con man to the camp, "why dontcha go sit down for a bit? Ya got everything else ready for us; all that's missing is wood for the fire." The gambler looked over toward his bedroll; this evening, it looked as welcoming as his featherbed usually did. He looked back to Vin just as a bad spike of pain shot through his head. He put his hand to his face, rubbing his eyes and then pressing on his forehead, as though the action could ease the ache. He kept his left arm still and within the safety of the sling.

"Ah b'lieve Ah will take you up on your offer. Ah am feelin' rather fatigued." He started for his bedroll, but tilted into Vin's personal space.

"Whoa, pard," Vin said as he gently grasped Ezra's good arm.

"Mi dispiace," the southerner uttered.

Vin frowned. "What's that?" he asked. He didn't recognize it as the Latin, French or Spanish his educated friend could often be heard spouting, though it had a pretty sound coming from Ezra's mouth, no matter what language it was.

"I'm sorry," Ezra said. "Thank you," he continued, rallying enough to stand up, as much as his 'hunched' stance would allow, and away from Vin. "Ah am fine."

Vin shook his head. "Ya ain't. Ya should be in that nice bed o' yours back in your room." They walked to the tree nearby where they would soon have a fire going. "Just stay here," the Texan said as he waited for Ezra to get down and comfortable. "I'll be back in a jiffy."

"A jiffy, is it? And just how long might that be?"

"No more 'n two shakes of a lamb's tail." The blues eyes laughed with amusement.

Ezra smiled for the first time in hours. "Ah will wait patiently for your return."

* * *

"You wanna go get 'em? 'Course I'm all in if you wanna do that," Buck offered.

"Did I say I wanted to go get 'em?" Chris asked as he took a long draw on his mug of beer.

"Vin would have made sure they went slow, they should be easy enough to find," J.D. added. "They headed northwest out of town."

"You didn't have to say anything, Chris," Josiah said, his steely blue eyes boring into the former gunslinger's.

Chris shook his head. "I know where they're headed," he finally let on.

"Figured as much. What's ol' Ez up to now?" the ladies man asked with a smile that lit up the boardwalk and could practically be felt all the way down the boulevard … both ways.

Chris grinned as he remembered the conversation with Ezra.

"_Cactus? You want to go …. hunt cactus?"_

"_This would be more of a gathering expedition," Ezra acknowledged. "As hunter-gatherers, our species is well-known to desire both the kill from the hunt as well as the fruit of Mother Earth. Man cannot live on meat alone."_

"_I think maybe I could," Chris admitted. "Maybe with a potato now and then."_

_Ezra grinned. "Ah believe you could. A meat and potatoes man. Ah admit that Ah developed a taste for the fruit and vegetables that are grown bountifully in the south. But lately, Ah find mah mouth waterin' for a delicacy from our climate. Ah experienced the most wondrous dish in a fine dining establishment in Denver on that last fateful visit with mother." The gambler had come back, weary and frustrated … and resigned to the fact that spending time with his mother was no longer a pleasant endeavor. Though she presented the correct emotions, those of a mother missing her son, Ezra always felt that his presence was one that would put him in jeopardy. Not physically, and no longer emotionally; Ezra had learned how not to be taken by his mother, a hard lesson likely learned far too late in life. He had always held out hope that he could have the type of relationship with Maude that Buck spoke of when he reminisced about his mother, or Vin, who had only had five short years with a woman that to this day he looked up to. No, what was most jeopardized was his position amongst his fellow lawmen; it would take very little thought on Maude's part to leave Ezra holding the bag, even if that bag meant being arrested for something he did not do. He couldn't risk that any longer._

"_So what was this fine dining that's worth heading out into the wilds of the desert for cactus?"_

"_Simply put, it is a mixed cactus salad. But that does not do justice to the wonders of this dish. The cactus is sautéed in a mix of fresh herbs; we are fortunate to have the lovely Gloria Potter in our town. The woman is a garden angel. She has been growin' herbs all winter in her small back room, the one that receives direct sun most of the day."_

"_Ain't you got Mary and Casey and Robert's wife all growin' herbs?"_

"_Ah would say it was a joint effort on mah part and on Mrs. Potter's. She also has all of the restaurants growing them in pots in their sunniest windows."_

"_And Inez?"_

_Ezra smiled the smile of a man in love. "Well, she was somewhat late to the party, but we have obtained seeds from Gloria and we are startin' several pots in the saloon kitchen's window."_

"_And this cactus is ready out there? Seems kind of early."_

"_It is. But there are young cactus that are out there, especially up against south facing rocks that are, according to our friends at the Seminole village and on the reservation, tender and will be delectable, if we can find them in a large enough number."_

"_You know how to make this cactus salad?"_

"_Ah have the memory of the flavors swirling in mah head," Ezra admitted, acknowledging that he would need to make up the recipe as he went along._

"_You gonna be makin' this for all of us?" the tall blond asked._

_Ezra sighed. "Ah know that Ah have been remiss in preparing a meal for our group. Ah have been otherwise occupied with … "_

"_Gettin' hurt."_

"_Yes."_

"_And wooing Inez."_

"_That may be old news to you, Chris, but it is new news to me," the con man said, his happy smile bright, his gold tooth shimmering in the sunlight. "Ah concede that this pleasant activity has taken up a wondrous amount of mah time this last week." Ezra smiled as he looked toward the saloon where his lady was likely fending off drunken admirers. Ezra admired Inez for her ability to do just that. He looked back toward Chris, who was smiling along with him. "In any event, we are well overdue for a pleasurable repast."_

"_You're gonna need help, gathering all that cactus," Chris suggested. "You all right with havin' Vin join you?"_

"_Ah would doubtless enjoy the pleasure of his company. He can help assure that Ah do not bring something back that might poison us all."_

"_That would be appreciated," the leader of the Seven countered wryly as he stood to begin his walking patrol of the town._

"Don't go worryin' on it, Buck. He wants to surprise everyone."

Buck's eyes shone with delight. "Hell, ol' pard, ya just gave it away."

"What?" J.D. asked.

"Never mind, kid." Buck looked down the main avenue of Four Corners. "Hey, ain't that Casey?" he asked.

As the young easterner turned to check if his girl was heading their way, Buck grabbed his hat and shot his long legs down the boardwalk in the opposite direction. J.D. checked to make sure Casey wasn't actually there, and started to chase after his annoying friend as he let out a pleading, "Buuuck!"

Chris shook his head and went about his business, leaving the 'children' to their play.

* * *

Ezra woke from his doze with a start. He frowned, rubbed his sore head, and then eased back against the tree. He must have been dreaming …

"Aaaah, hell!" he heard. This time he was awake enough to realize it was Vin's voice he heard shouting angrily.

"Vin!" Ezra called as he forced himself to his feet. He realized, now that he'd been recumbent for some time, and that he had really overworked his arm. It ached miserably, as did his head, which felt no better now than when he'd set himself down on his bedroll. He looked to the sky; he'd been down, and well asleep, for near an hour. What the hell?

"Ezra! Need your help." The con man rushed in the direction of Vin's voice. He had the tracker call once, and then twice to assure he was headed in the right direction. When he finally reached him, Ezra found Vin sitting on the ground, a goodly sized smattering of wood laying about him.

"What happened?" Ezra asked as he knelt before his friend. His headache and his arm played havoc with his balance, and he quickly switched to setting one knee on the ground. Vin, being ever observant, despite having his own concerns at the moment, didn't miss it.

"You all right?"

"What happened?" the con man asked again, ignoring the question as he took Vin's bootless, sock-covered foot and felt it for damage.

"Sprained my ankle, I think. Stepped right in a damned prairie dog hole." The tracker rubbed his wrist as he added, "hurt my hand, too."

"Ah cannot imagine how you could have stepped in a prairie dog hole. That is quite unlike you."

"Well, I did." He looked around at the wood. "Hell."

"Yes, Ah would agree with that. Let's get you back to camp," the gambler said as he stood. "Can you puy any weight on it?"

"Let's try." The first attempt had them both hitting the ground, Vin not quite ready for the pain putting any pressure on his foot caused, and Ezra's shoulder definitely not prepared for the full weight of Vin Tanner. Ezra couldn't stop Vin's foot from knocking into the hard ground, but he was able to keep the Texan's injured wrist from suffering more damage, even if it was at the expense of a sharp pain in his shoulder. The second try worked better as both men hobbled to their camp.

Ezra sat on his knees beside the former bounty hunter as he removed the sock from Vin's left foot. He felt for breaks, pressing in hard enough to elicit a yelp from his friend. "Mah apologies," the southern gentleman said.

"'s all right. Needs to be checked, I guess."

"Indeed, but Ah believe your diagnosis is incorrect. Ah am no doctor, but Ah believe Ah feel a broken bone in your foot." Ezra closed his eyes and felt the foot carefully once more. "Yes." He shook his head. "Remain here. Ah shall return." The gambler slowly rose to his feet and headed in the direction from where they'd come, picking up both his and Vin's canteens along the way.

"Where ya goin'?" Vin asked.

"Ah will not be long," Ezra replied tiredly.

He was true to his word, returning in about fifteen minutes with full canteens and an armload of the wood that Vin had gathered and dropped all around the prairie dog hole. Ezra grabbed the cloths from his saddlebag, soaked one in some of the water, and placed it on Vin's badly swollen ankle.

"Jeez! That's cold!" the tracker cried.

"Good," the con man replied. He wiped sweat from his forehead and added, "the colder the better, Ah should think. Ah would have you venture down to the creek, but Ah do not believe that either you or Ah are up to it."

"Yer sweatin' and it ain't hot. Cooled down nice today," Vin observed.

"Ah know. Ah am loathe to admit it, but Ah fear Ah may not have been quite healed enough for an outing."

"Seemed all right earlier."

"Yes. Now, Ah do not possess the requisite knowledge to splint the bones in a broken foot, so let us begin with wrapping your wrist."

"You should sit a spell," Vin suggested.

"Ah will … " the southerner said as he took the cloth, wet it again and placed the cool, damp rag back on Vin's foot. " … after your injuries are properly care for and I make another trip or two for the remainer of the wood you collected."

"Shit. Sorry, Ez."

"No apology is required."

"You'll think different when I tell ya what else I dropped."

"Do tell."

"Killed us some rattlesnake and a rabbit."

"Ah, yes. Ah do vaguely recall hearing your weapon discharge."

"That was jest fer the rabbit. Used my knife for the snake."

"Either way, we shall have a veritable feast this evenin'."

"Yer not mad 'bout that? You'll have ta cook. You were prob'ly happy with the beans and biscuits Gloria put together for us."

"Never fear. Ah am always happy when Ah can avoid beans anywhere, at any time, no slight intended to Gloria's fine culinary skills. You have done beyond your fare share for me out on the trail. Just sit back and enjoy this nice evening," Ezra said with a grin as he looked up into the clear sky of approaching dusk.

* * *

"What're you doin', Buck?"

"I don't like it. Just talked to Nathan. He's comin', too." The ladies man held the reins of his horse as Clyde stood behind him.

"Kinda late to be headin' out."

"Yeah, well," Buck said as he looked into the clear night sky, the full moon casting a bright beacon of light over the town. "I think if Ez's gonna make us supper with whatever he's out there huntin', the least we can do is help."

Chris stood from the chair he'd been occupying in front of the jail. "J.D.'s inside. Let me tell him we're heading out. Go tell Josiah what we're planning. He and the kid can hold down the fort. I need to stop and tell Mary where we're going. Meet you and Nate at the edge of town in ten minutes.

* * *

Inez frowned as she saw Mary Travis walk into the saloon. It was into the suppertime hours and the newspaperwoman was usually busy preparing supper for her son, and then spending time with him and his studies at this time of day.

"Inez," the pretty blonde said.

"Mary."

"Do you have a minute?"

"Of course. I will be right back," she said to the bartender as she stepped out from behind the bar and walked to the back hallway, Mary following behind.

"I just wanted to let you know that Chris, Buck and Nathan have decided to go … meet up with Ezra and Vin," the newspaper publisher said.

"Is that so? Why would they do this?"

"Well, it mostly has to do with Ezra."

"What about him?" Inez asked worriedly.

"Both Chris and Nathan believe that he is not healed enough for this trip," Mary explained.

"He told me he was fine," the beautiful brunet said, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.

"Inez, you know how men can be. They think they are protecting us by pretending things."

"I see." Mary smiled sadly at her friend's admission. "I mean, I do see. Really. And when I am through with him, he will think twice before trying something like this again."

Mary Travis did not doubt her one bit.

"It's nothing less than he deserves," Mary agreed.

Satisfied that she'd gotten everything she needed to know from her friend, Inez said, "I must get back. Gracias, Mary. Buenos noches." Inez stormed away, her bearing saying everything. Mary felt sad that Inez now knew that Ezra had not been completely honest with her. As for Ezra Standish? Mary sure wouldn't want to be in his shoes when he returned to town.

* * *

"Ah knew one of these days the animals of the world would revolt," Ezra said as he looked carefully in the direction of where the snake had slithered off to.

"Should'n'a got it all riled up."

Ezra looked to his traveling companion with disdain. "You would suggest its direction heading toward Chaucer, Peso and Gladys should have been let be?"

"No. I'm suggestin' that you shoulda got it with yer gun. 's too up close and personal with a knife."

"Mistah Tanner, did you not, just some time ago, kill the rattler delicacy that Ah cooked and you ate … with your knife?"

"Yep."

"Then how is what Ah attempted any different … "

"I know what I'm doin'."

Ezra let out an annoyed sniff. The snake, due to the gambler's diligence, had changed direction … right back toward them. He was gratified that the horses and Gladys were no longer in danger, but now he was in a bit of a pickle himself. He knew fairly precisely where it lay, hidden by a thick bush that rested up against a large boulder, but getting it to show itself just didn't appear to be in the cards, so to speak. But he couldn't do nothing, that was just asking for trouble. He pulled out his Remington, and aimed at the ground just to the left of the big rock.

"Be prepared in case of a ricochet," Ezra warned Vin.

"I'm ready."

Ezra fired, Gladys brayed, and the snake slithered straight for the con man.

"Ez," Vin warned, but he'd hardly had his friend's name from his lips as he watched something play out that he would have expected from Nathan Jackson, but not from Ezra Standish.

"You've got some explainin' ta do, Ezra. I guess you do know what yer doin' with a knife."

Ezra looked with a sour expression over to the tracker. "Ah will tell you mah story, but Ah do not wish it to go any further."

"Does Chris know?"

"Ah believe Mistah Larabee suspects that Ah have a certain … talent, but no. Ah really do not wish for Chris or the others to know."

"Know what?" Chris Larabee said as he called from outside the camp.

"Ah, hell," Ezra said as he plopped down tiredly next to Vin.

"Let me check 'em first before we sit through Ezra's explanation," Nathan said as he grabbed his saddlebags and headed for the two adventurers sitting side-by-side.

"Ah have no intention of offerin' any explanation," Ezra noted, ending his comment with a resounding yawn. "Mah apologies," he added.

"Just sit and rest while I look you over," Nathan ordered as he got down to business.

"Ezra looks done in," Buck said as he started to remove the now-dead snake from the immediate area.

"Ah am not," Ezra challenged tiredly.

"Hey, what you doin' with that?" Nathan asked Buck.

"Gettin' it out of the way."

"Cook it up. Rattler's good eatin'."

"He's right, 'specially when Ez cooks it," Vin commented as he rubbed his happy tummy with his good hand.

"Do whatever you're gonna do with it. I'm gonna go check on their horses and that mule."

"Gladys," Buck offered.

Chris stared at his oldest friend, as though he really cared that the mule even had a name. "Let's just get settled, get somethin' to eat and go to sleep. It's been a long day."

* * *

"Figure they caught up to 'em by now?" J.D. asked.

"Most likely," Josiah replied. They had decided to spend some extra time at the jailhouse. J.D. would be taking the night watch over their town.

"What do you suppose Ezra's doin'?"

"Well, J.D., what ain't we got from Ezra in a while?"

"We ain't played poker with him in a while." He thought a little harder. "'Course, we ain't won a card game with him in longer."

"What else?"

"Well, I don't know about you, 'siah, but I could sure eat that spaghetti thing he made us last year. Or remember that spicy egg thing … "

"Frittata."

"Yeah, that's it." J.D. looked more intently at his older companion. "Wait. You think Ez is out gettin' stuff for one of his meals that he makes?"

"I do."

"That would be great. I wonder what he's out finding?"

Josiah stood up, stretched his large frame, and then stepped off the boardwalk, heading for the church. "I leave you to ponder that on your own."

"Good night, Josiah."

"Good night, J.D."

* * *

"Stay away."

Chris Larabee was awake at the first utterance, and looked in the direction of the gambler, finding him tossing and turning and mumbling, mostly incoherently.

"He's dreamin'," Vin said. It was Buck whose voice the leader of the Seven expected to hear, if any. Chris looked back over to Ezra, and then over to Buck, who slept soundly, snoring softly. He shook his head. "I told him to get some shut-eye," Vin said softly. "I was wide awake, might as well make myself useful."

"You can't walk and your right hand is swollen and sprained," Chris countered.

"I can still pull the trigger," Vin defended as his mare's leg rested on his lap. "'Sides, ain't no one gonna bother us 'round here," the tracker said knowingly.

"Ah said no!" Chris jumped up and headed to the dreaming gambler. "Ah am warnin' you, Uncle, Ah … no!" Ezra swung his arm up high above his head, his hand fisted around an imaginary weapon, and then plunged it down hard, his movements clear evidence of previous experience using a knife in a most critical and personal way. The self-defensive utterances contrasted sharply with the offensive action, saying more than Ezra was likely to ever tell them for real.

"Ezra, wake up," the tall blond said as kneeled before the agitated man.

"Ah will do it again!" Ezra shouted. "Stand away, suh!"

"Ezra," Chris encouraged, placing his hand on the southerner's shoulder. "Come on, wake up."

"I got his knife. He's been kinda riled up fer a bit. Tried callin' to 'im, but I wasn't gettin' through," Vin said. "He's hard ta wake even when he ain't tired, hurt and troubled."

Chris nodded. They knew this from too-frequent experience. Ezra seemed to bob and weave, trying to avoid some imaginary threat, this 'Uncle' who seemed intent on hurting him. Or worse.

"Ezra!" Chris called loudly and firmly. The entreaty woke both Buck and Nathan.

"Ezra all right?" the healer asked.

"Dreamin'," Vin answered.

"Looks like more of a nightmare," Buck said as he rubbed sleepy eyes.

"Uncle. Ah am not goin' to let you … Don't! Ah implore you … no … no!"

"Ezra, damn it. Wake up!" Chris demanded.

The card sharp blinked several times, his eyes finally staying open as he looked about wildly. He quickly recognized Chris, and then Vin, Nathan and Buck. He breathed deeply in an attempt to slow his heartbeat, which seemed to be racing as fast as Chaucer's after a hard chase of many of the miscreants they had apprehended over the years. He didn't like the position he was in now … he would be forced to talk about it with his compatriots, but he was grateful to be out of that nightmare.

"Ya'll right?" Chris asked.

Ezra took one more steadying breath and answered, "Yes. Now. Thank you." He took another deep breath, looked from one friend to the next and said, "Ah do apologize for wakin' everyone." He put his head down in embarrassment. He wiped at his face, surprised to find tears. He wiped them away with a heavy sigh.

"You wanna talk about it?" Nathan asked warmly.

"Ah do not," Ezra replied, followed quickly by, "but Ah feel … Ah wonder if it might … "

"Think talkin' 'bout it might help," Vin advised, knowing that being able to talk about his past with Chris or Nettie Wells … or Ezra, had helped him greatly since he'd come to this town and become acquainted with people who cared for him. Before Four Corners, it seemed there hadn't been anyone he'd trusted, not since his momma … and certainly, until he'd arrived here, his innermost feelings – worries – were his own, alone. But he was no longer alone.

Ezra nodded as he reached for his canteen. "Ah recognize that it is likely a good time to tell this story, that Ah now have … friends who will allow me to ask that they share mah burden, even if that burden is simply unburdening mah soul." He took a quick swallow of the still-cool water.

"We're always here to listen, or more, Hoss."

"Ah know, Buck."

"Mind if I put on some coffee?" Chris asked.

Ezra checked the time on his pocketwatch. "Good lord, it is only two o'clock. Maybe it would be prudent to hold this discussion for another time," his suggested.

"We're all awake now. You might as well tell us. The sooner you get it off your chest, the sooner you might be restin' easy," Nathan suggested.

Chris moved to the fire to make a pot of coffee while Ezra began his story.

"As you are all well aware, Maude Standish is not now nor was she evah a very good mother." He looked to Vin and Buck, and thought of J.D., whose pain at the loss of his mother was still fresh some three years later. "Mah apologies for speaking ill of mothers. Ah know you gentlemen cannot understand how a son could speak ill of the one who brought him into the world." Ezra knew that both Chris and Nathan had lost their mothers in their youths, and had certainly never had a negative word to say about them. He had no firsthand knowledge of Josiah's mother.

"Don't forget, Ezra, we've met your mother," Buck responded gently.

"So true. Mother's … " Ezra smirked, then continued, "_'maternal'_ tendencies took quite a long hiatus which fairly nearly commenced from the day after mah birth and made only the most remote of appearances until Ah was deemed useful for her cons."

"How old were you then?" Nathan asked as he prepared a cup of his medicinal tea, the kind that would help Ezra sleep.

"Ah was seven years old, one month and twenty-two days old." The look of devastation in Vin's eyes only served to embarrass the southerner. But he could see that Vin needed to know more.

"You didn't see your ma hardly at all in that time?" Vin asked, incredulous. How could a mother do such a thing? Vin had his mother with him every day of his life, until she got sick and died when he was just five years old. He regretted not having her for longer, but he wouldn't trade even one of those days for any other thing in the world, except maybe for a few more days with her.

"Oh, she made appearances, a week here, ten days there, four days the next month, one day another. The way Ah knew she was mah mother was because of the, as you can imagine, spectacular show she presented whenever she managed to come for a visit, or pick me up in order to drop me off at another relative, or … " Ezra shivered, and then rubbed his forehead. Though the day had been surprisingly warm, the desert night was now upon them. It was still spring, at least for a little while. Ezra loved the desert, but he still had a hard time with the cold, and the nights, of late, had been bone-chillingly cold despite the temperate, sunny days.

Chris brought him an extra blanket. A soft 'thank you' was uttered in the silky southern accent. Chris asked, "Another relative, or … ?" Nathan handed the gambler a mug of his tea; Ezra returned a smile and a silent thank you by way of a nod to the healer as well.

"'_Uncle'_ Gaylord Carter. He was not mah uncle, not by blood. Mother, as best Ah can surmise, must have owed the man somethin'. He appreciated mah dapper wardrobe, mah beguilin' use of the language, even at such a young age." Ezra took a sip of the tea, and trembled with distaste this time rather than from the chilly night. "Mostly, he liked me to be … _with_ him." That Ezra managed to be a beguiling speaker of the language as he stayed with people like this told the untold story of a sad, lonely boy, finding solace and hope within the pages of books.

His friends sat in stunned silence, but only momentarily.

"'_With'_ him?" Chris asked through gritted teeth.

"Did he … " Buck started, but he found himself unable to put his thoughts to words.

"He did everything but … take me," Ezra replied, his head lowered.

"Everything?" Nathan asked, his tone caring, but his question more precise than one might ever expect.

"Yes."

"He … " Nathan continued, but Ezra interrupted.

"He did not take me anally, Nathan. But he did everything else," the card sharp said, his green eyes glistening in the bright moonlight and the flickering firelight.

"Did Maude know?" Chris asked.

"Mah mother learned early on that by choosing to believe mah stories fabrications, it provided her the denial required to pretend that nothing happened. After all, how could a mother live with herself believing what Ah said yet insisting that Ah remain with the man?" Ezra looked to each of his friends, snorted a bitter laugh and then added, "So, it would seem so, Chris, since Ah told her about what he'd done every time she visited, and each time she left me there."

"How long did he … molest you?" the tracker asked.

"He had the … decency to wait until Ah was six years old."

"And you took a knife to him, that's the only way you could get him to stop?" Chris asked.

"Indeed, the day Ah attacked Uncle he beat me, and then had his old slave Marius dump me at the edge of town. Marius, most assuredly against the wishes of Mistah Carter, made certain Ah had what few belongings Ah owned, most importantly, mah knife."

"You were seven years old and were left in the middle of nowhere?" Chris asked. It was clear to all present that though he was horrified that this had happened to his friend, the former gunslinger was imagining his own young son hurt and abused, lost and alone.

"Ah found a spot off of the road to … rest from the beating. Ah, once again, feel that Ah have Marius to thank for gettin' word to an … _acquaintance_ at the next plantation." Ezra could see that Nathan's expression had turned sour. "Yes, Mistah Jackson, Ah have every reason to thank good men held in chains for mah very life."

"That ain't what I'm bothered by," Nathan returned. "They had to have known what was goin' on. They should have helped before it got that far."

Ezra smiled sadly. "No, Nathan. You might be thinkin' that is how _you_ would have acted, but these fine men had families of their own to worry over." Ezra lowered his head; that he was wondering where his own family was when all of this was going on was still obvious to them all. He raised his head and continued his story. "Ah woke in the slave quarters of Mistah Hugh Rutherford's place. Mistah Rutherford's widowed older sister nursed me back to health." A warm smile appeared as Ezra spoke of the woman. "It was the most wonderful three months of mah young life. Missus Prescott was the woman who started mah interest in French, a language Ah learned much more of once Mother moved us to New Orleans, though David, Eloise, Anthony and the other slaves with their various languages, dialects of French and Spanish and their own native African languages, had mah head spinnin' for a while, once it stopped spinnin' from the injuries Ah sustained from Unc … Mistah Carter."

"How'd Maude find you?" Buck asked, wondering whether a young Ezra Standish might have fared better cutting that cord.

"Ah nevah found out, but it was within a year that we moved on to Louisiana, where she found other places to quarter me than back with Mistah Carter."

"What happened to Carter?" Chris asked.

The gambler could see the hate simmering in the tall blond's eyes. It warmed his very being that his friends wished they could somehow avenge the horrors he'd suffered as a child. "Ah learned much later, Ah was well into mah teenaged years, that Gaylord Carter turned more heavily to drink. One night in a drunken stupor, he ventured on a walk into the swamps of Georgia. The story goes that only the top half of him was found in alligator-infested waters. A just end," Ezra added with no obvious emotion.

"Damn straight," Vin agreed.

Ezra yawned. "Ah believe this revolting tea might well allow me some rest," he said with a smile towards their healer. Nathan grinned back. "Might Ah ask a favor of you gentlemen?"

"Sure, Ez," Buck answered for them all.

"Could we keep the tellin' of this sordid tale between us? Though Ah feel … relieved with the tellin', Ah do not feel that Ah will ever be up to goin' over it again with J.D., but especially, not with Josiah."

Vin agreed readily. "You got my word." Chris nodded his assent.

"Can't blame ya, Ez. You got my word, it's just between us."

"Thank you, Buck." The gamester nodded his appreciation to Vin and Chris. He turned to the former slave. "Nathan?"

"I can keep it between us, but you don't think talkin' it over with Josiah might … "

"Ah most certainly do not. It has been mah experience with the devout among us that, despite how much they desire to be understanding, when the concerns are as … intimate as Ah have described, there is somehow always some, how shall Ah say, inability on their part not to find fault with all parties."

"You weren't at fault, Ezra," Chris insisted.

"Thank you for sayin' so, Chris. And Ah know Ah did nothin' wrong. Ah … well … Ah just wish to place the entire episode back into the past, where it belongs." Ezra turned back to Nathan, waiting on his decision.

"Of course I can do what you ask. I'm sorry you had such a hard time."

"Ah appreciate that," Ezra said, yawning again as he uttered the last word.

"Get some sleep," the healer told the card sharp.

"Mistah Tanner, we rise early for the hunt," Ezra reminded the tracker.

"You sher?"

"Of course. We have three extra sets of eyes and hands. We will complete our task in no time and be home far sooner than we could have hoped." Ezra yawned once more. "Mah not-quite-a-featherbed awaits." He lay down, Ezra's slight groans of pain at the movement not hidden this time from his friends. The southerner watched his friends, spending short moments on each face, one to the next. He could sense their pity, it was to be expected. But more than that, he felt the warmth of brotherhood, and the intense feeling that these men, these friends, would do everything in their power to prevent harm to come to him. Ezra Standish was a grown man, but lord did it feel good to have these fine men watching his back.

* * *

"Cactus? We're out here hunting down cactus?" Buck Wilmington could not believe his ears.

"Have you ever had it?" Nathan asked as he used his knife to cut off a large piece from the succulent before him.

"No." Buck remained in his saddle on Clyde while the healer harvested some of what would be their supper this day.

"It's delicious," the black man said as he took one final whack at this particularly stubborn specimen.

"If you say so." Buck looked off to where Ezra had just finished packing up some of the cactus paddles into sacks and stowing them from Gladys' back. The man had just gotten back up onto Chaucer, with visible difficulty. "Think he's all right?" he asked. Nathan knew who he was asking about, despite the fact that Vin had injuries to worry about, too.

"Well, Buck," the healer replied as he put the prickly plant into a sack, "I think he'll need a good, long medicinal tea-assisted nap before he's gonna feel like cooking."

"Yeah, but I mean … you know. Everything else."

Nathan took a good long look at his southern friend. "He'll be fine. I don't think he's let what that man did to him affect his life badly in any way. He could have been a real mess, hurtin' others … hurtin' hisself. But he ain't like that."

"No he ain't. Even what he admits to doin' ain't that bad."

"He's a different man now," the black man agreed.

"He's a good man," Buck added.

"Yeah. Took me a while to figure that out."

"Hell, Nate," Buck said as he slapped the healer on the back, and then hissed at the pain it caused his pricked up fingers. He sucked at his thumb, which had taken a thick needle and said, "It was a rough start for us all." He looked down at the trimmed cactus plant. "Why can't we just take the whole plant? Seems it would be easier that way."

"Vin says it's better to take some from a lot than taking the whole thing. Something about cuttin' 'em makes 'em come back for bigger for animals and others to enjoy."

"Slow work," Buck noted.

"It'd go faster if you'd get your ass offa Clyde and do some cuttin'," Nathan replied with amused derision.

"Nathan, my fingers are so hacked up; the ladies are _not_ gonna find that very appealing." The lean gunman now sucked at his middle finger, which had not stopped bleeding from his last attempt at 'harvesting'. He thought harvests were supposed to be happy times. There was nothing happy about the way his fingers felt right now.

"Shoulda worn your gloves," Nathan said.

"Nobody told me … "

"Nobody told any of us, Buck," Chris said as he, Vin and Ezra returned, Gladys ponied behind. "Nobody had to tell Ezra," the tall blond said with a wicked grin. Nathan chuckled as he added his sack to Gladys' burden.

"Ah ta … " Ezra started, but Chris cut him off.

"Yeah, yeah, you," their leader began, joined by Vin, Buck and Nathan, "take umbrage at that remark."

Ezra snorted at the unison, indeed the harmony coming from his friends. "Well, Ah do."

"You got enough there, Hoss?" The handsome ladies man with the scratched up fingers looked to Gladys, the mule seemingly overburdened with enough cactus to feed the entire town.

"Ah believe we do."

"It's early. Maybe we can get you and Vin back to town, get a quick meal, and then you two can get some rest," Nathan suggested, knowing they had plenty of time. Vin hadn't needed to wake up the gambler this morning. Despite the tea that he had taken in the middle of the night, Ezra was ready to go with everyone else. He was paying for that now, though. The weariness was starting to show.

"A finer idea Ah have not heard in a good long while," Ezra answered. He was doing his best to put on a good show for his friends, but even he knew that he was failing to impress his friends, or himself. He was flat out done in. "Mistah Tanner, what do you think of our fine healer's suggestion?"

"Sounds like a plan." Vin's eyes showed his own pain at overdoing it this morning.

"Let's head home," Chris ordered.

* * *

When Ezra finally came downstairs from his tea-induced nap, he found Inez, Mary and Gloria in the saloon's kitchen, cleaning and chopping the cactus.

"Ladies," he said as he made his presence known.

"Come. Sit." Gloria said. A stool was positioned near the stove, at the butcher block between the sink and the cooking area.

"How are you feeling?" Mary asked, handing him a cup of coffee.

"Thank you," he said to both Gloria and Mary, followed by the answer to Mary's question. "Bettah." Inez brushed by him, leaving a quick peck on his cheek, and a broad smile on Ezra's face.

"Everyone will be gathering in the back room at six o'clock," Inez said. "That will be enough time?"

"It will," the gambler replied. "Mah dear ladies, Ah am … well," he said, flipping his thumb over his lower lip, a tactic the southerner often invoked to stall; it was a way of giving himself time to find exactly what he wished to say, or in times past, do to get himself out of trouble, to figure out a way to escape, sometimes to escape injury to his person. At this moment, he certainly had no plans on leaving, but he also seemed at a loss regarding what to say about what he'd walked in on here.

"They arrived, by the way," Mary said, patting his good arm as she scooted by him. "They are cleaned and ready to go."

"Thank you, Mary." He looked around and saw all of his ingredients: the cactus paddles – prickly pear, saguaro, Indian fig, as well as some of the edible flowers; olive oil and tomatoes; Serrano chiles, cilantro and lemons; salt and pepper. Finally, the beautiful shrimp that had arrived that afternoon, as Ezra had planned. They were pink and plump and, kept on ice, had stayed fresh on the stage, well-packed by the fishermen who had caught them just two days previous in the waters somewhere off the coast between Tijuana, Mexico and San Diego, California.

Ezra stepped down from his stool and said, "You have left me very little to do."

"Don't be silly," Gloria said. "We are just your helpers, and we are happy to do it."

"You are certainly more than that, Gloria Potter," the southern gentleman said as he leaned over, took her hand, and kissed it. "Ah hope you will be joining us for our get-together."

"No, we will not," Inez said as she rushed by to take the cactus to the area for preparation near the stove.

"B … But why? You must."

"Ezra, this is something you and the others do, together," Mary explained. "The bonds that continue to grow between the seven of you are all the thanks we need. I doubt that you really, truly understand how much the meals that you organize for yourself and the others have impacted this town. We don't need to be invited to the table to know that we are important to you. You and Chris, Vin, Buck and J.D., Josiah and Nathan, you risk your lives for us. I am certain that we do not say it enough, but I hope you know that you have our gratitude."

Ezra blinked rapidly. Mary's words, and Inez and Gloria nodding their agreement with them, meant the world to the former con man. How amazing, the changes to his life, the result of one fateful decision: to show up with the ragtag group that Chris Larabee was putting together to help a village that was paying barely enough to cover the cost of his bullets. He didn't know these people, back then, these desperate people for whom they were brought together to help make a stand against a crazy former Confederate soldier. Back then, he didn't really care to know those people, or even these men who he had chosen to fight with. Oh, yes, how things had changed: at the beginning, provide protection for that small group, then perform similar duties for this small town, and now a slightly larger town with people Ezra Standish could not imagine living without.

"Ah do appreciate that, Mary. But that does not mean you cannot join us for supper."

"Just don't let Buck eat it all," Inez suggested with a wink.

"We would definitely like to try the final dish," Gloria said.

"It sounds, and everything smells, wonderful," Mary added.

"Ah will put aside some for you lovely ladies ahead of serving mah, needless to say, ravenous friends."

"Good," Gloria said with a smile, a smile that was mostly there for the way Ezra now spoke of the other six men as 'friends'. It wasn't always like this; she had worried that one or more of them would have left by now. Certainly some of them had been treated badly enough at one point or another to have reason to leave. As a community, they were so, so lucky. "Then I shall be gone. I will be back around seven with your desserts."

"Desserts?" Ezra asked.

"A peach cobbler and a strawberry-rhubarb pie, from all of those wonderful fruits we harvested and canned last year, as well as the last of the peaches from Georgia that you so kindly ordered."

"If that is the last of then, Ah can think of no finer way to utilize them than in one of your scrumptious crumbles," Ezra assured the widow. He would need to see about ordering more of the fuzzy fruit of his southern roots.

"I must go as well. I need to pick up Billy and get him fed and bathed," Mary said.

"And I will stay to help, but then I must see to the saloon," Inez said as she placed the last of the prepared ingredients on the workspace.

"This will be the easiest meal Ah have evah made," Ezra said with a smile. "Thank you," he said, but that was all he was allowed as Gloria Potter placed her fingers to his lips.

"No. Thank you, for all you do. Thank you for staying when you have certainly had opportunities to leave such a place as this. Thank you." She kissed him on the cheek and then left the room. He watched as she lifted her hand to wipe a tear from her eye.

Mary smiled, pulled him into a gentle hug, mindful that he was still recovering. She whispered into his ear, "I couldn't have said it better myself." She kissed his cheek and added, "Thank you," before heading for the door.

Ezra seemed a little stunned, but only momentarily. He saw Inez watching him with a big, warm and, dare he say, proud smile. "My, my," he said, "if Ah don't feel like our very own Buck Wilmington at this … " He didn't finish as his lady love threw a wet towel in his face.

* * *

"That was great."

"Thank you, J.D.," Ezra said as he took a swallow of the cognac he'd kept safe until he could arrange another of his special meals for his friends.

"No, no. I really mean thanks. It was my first time having cactus, which was so good. But the shrimp, it brought back memories of my mother. We didn't have much, but every couple of months she made sure we had some seafood. She said it made no sense to live so close to the ocean and not have some of what was plentiful, even if it did cost a little. Sometimes, during the year, different things were cheaper than normal. Not that it was cheap for you to get it here. I mean … well, I really appreciate it, Ezra." Buck rubbed his friend's back, knowing that he was still young, that the wound of losing his mother was not yet completely healed. Buck lost his own mother long years ago and he could vouch for the fact that it was a wound that never fully healed.

"It was mah pleasure," Ezra admitted. They all knew that the gambler was telling the truth, that hosting these 'repasts' made him feel like he had a real family. They would tell him someday that the meal wasn't necessary for him to be family. He was family, and he needed to know that, they just hoped telling him so didn't mean the end of the incredible food that he prepared for them.

"This 'libation' don't hurt none, either," Vin added with a twinkle in his eye.

"It was almost as good as a nice steak." Everyone looked to the leader of their group as though he'd just spoken in a foreign language. They all started to laugh at the same time, even Chris, though he felt the need to clarify. "Now, I ain't kidding."

"Mistah Larabee, there was fresh shrimp … "

"Yeah, that was good, too. But if I couldn't have a piece of meat with my meal, I would hope for something that good. Those 'fruits of the earth', as you call 'em, Ez, they ain't half bad."

"Better get a posse together. Looks like someone stole Chris Larabee and left a us a look-a-like," Buck joked affectionately. Chris offered less than the patented Larabee leer that they had all grown to appreciate, and others not from their town – and some within it – had grown to fear.

"I don't know how you can get the shrimp here before it goes bad. You're taking a risk of everybody getting sick," Nathan said. Ezra looked back to the healer, his expression one of obvious disappointment. As though he would ever do such a thing.

"Aw, come on, Nate. Ez knows what he's doin'," Buck said, trying to lighten the tension that had immediately come over the room. The gambler offered a faint smile of thanks in the ladies man's steadfast defense.

"I didn't mean … " Nathan started, but Vin interrupted.

"Sounds like ya did."

"But I didn't," the black man said in his own defense.

"Might do to choose your words more carefully," Josiah suggested. Ezra knew that Nathan hadn't meant that the former con man _would_ actually take the chance of serving them tainted food, even if he had spent a fortune to have it arrive fresh in the middle of the desert. He couldn't deny that he was enjoying watching Nathan squirm. Even now, three years into their acquaintance, even with a hard-earned and solid friendship, the healer could still open his mouth and thoughtlessly wound the southerner. He didn't seem to do it with anyone else, much like how he treated Ezra differently after injury or illness. Ezra knew that his other friends had talked to Nathan on his behalf about how the former slave spoke to him, but nothing seemed to have changed. It seemed to be something deep inside the healer, likely his southern roots, and his slave past, that kept Nathan from overcoming his own nature. So, Ezra didn't expect much to come of how Nathan tended to release him too soon from his recovery, even if Chris and Vin did go and talk to the man.

"If you gentlemen don't mind, it has been a long two days." He stood and said, "Thank you for joining in this evening's festivities."

"Ezra, you can't go to bed. It's only … what time is it, Buck?" J.D. asked.

The lean gunman pulled out his pocket watch. "Ten past eight."

"See?" J.D. pleaded. "You haven't had any pie."

"Be sure to save me a piece, would you?" He stepped away from the table, moving too fast in the hopes of removing himself from any further discussion of his remaining. He tripped on Chris' long leg, and placed his still-healing left arm out stop an embarrassing fall. He hissed at the jolt of pain, and all of his compatriots heard it.

"Sorry, Ezra. You all right?" Chris asked.

"Apparently, Ah am quite clumsy."

"Yer tired. So'm I," Vin said. "Yer shoulder got more of a workout the last two days than it was ready for."

Ezra put his head down and rubbed it with the hand on his uninjured side. "It seems so."

Nathan stood and walked up to the card sharp. "Let me take a look before you go to sleep." Though he hadn't truly apologized, and being as stubborn as they came probably wouldn't, Nathan's offer to make sure that he was all right, for Nathan Jackson, came very close to being an admission of regret.

"Much appreciated," Ezra said as he stepped away, and out of the way of any dangling legs. "Good night," he added. All of the remaining peacekeepers wished Ezra a good night, then the gambler and the healer made the careful, steady walk up to Ezra's room.

* * *

"You spoil them." Ezra squeezed his Mexican beauty tighter as he shook his head in disagreement. "You don't think so?" Inez asked as she snuggled in next to her handsome gambler in his featherbed, her hand softly floating over his smooth, well-toned chest.

"Ah do not. Ah do not believe it counts as spoilin' if Ah receive as much pleasure as they do."

"You spoil yourself," she said.

"No, Ah do not."

"Your pretty clothes, the fine Kentucky bourbon, the soap and tea from France. The cognac," Inez iterated, growing more sure of herself as she went through the laundry list. "The shrimp! The candy for … "

"Inez," Ezra said patiently as he leaned away in order to look her in the face, "Ah believe you are mistakin' what it means to spoil oneself. Bein' comfortable is not spoiling them."

"It is simply the right thing to do?" she asked.

"Indeed."

"When you first allowed Buck or Chris a taste of your good liquor? Why did you do that?"

"Ah feel confident that mah intentions were likely duplicitous at the time," Ezra admitted.

"You wished to get something out of it?"

"Ah am ashamed to say yes."

Inez looked to him with a smile, her brown eyes dark and warm, full of love for the man who lay beside her. "Why do you make them meals, and continue to offer them your bourbon, or the cognac, or make certain there is always just the right wine to serve with the meals you make?"

"Inez, mah dear, you make it sound as though you are surprised that Ah can offer a simple kindness."

"Ezra, that meal was not a simple kindness. There was nothing simple about it at all. It took work and planning and, even though the cactus was free, you still needed to make sure that you had lemons, herbs, greens … olive oil. These are all things that frustrate all of us who manage dining in this town."

"What is it, exactly, that you would have me say, mademoiselle?" he asked, followed by a stolen kiss as she opened her mouth to answer. She swatted him playfully.

"I would have you say, monsieur, that you do these things for the _real_ reason that you do them."

"And that would be?" Ezra asked, knowing the reaction that would result.

"Ezra." Inez gritted her teeth. "You are so …" she hesitated, trying to find a kinder word than the one she had in her head.

"Frustante?" the handsome gambler asked.

"Sí."

"You would like for me to say that Ah do these things for these men because Ah feel great affection for them?"

"You are very lucky that you are still recovering. I would hit you otherwise."

Ezra snorted a laugh. "Ah have no doubt about that."

"You love these men. _They_ are not the type of men to say it out loud."

"None of us … "

"No!" the beautiful saloon manager said. "If not you, then who? Who will show them that there is nothing wrong with admitting your love for a brother? Who?"

Ezra did not have an answer for her … so he kissed her. It was a long, sweet and passionate kiss. Even so, it did not have the effect Ezra was hoping for.

"You think that such a kiss will shut me up?" she asked, more threatening than he expected. It was disconcerting to the con man, to say the least, to be laying with her when she was like this, aside from that worry he had that he might be losing his touch in the conning department.

"Well, Ah was hopeful … " He didn't get to finish as Inez growled her frustration, and then turned to lay on her side, her back facing her lover.

"Qui allait bien."

Finis.


End file.
